


Nine Years, Waiting Just For You

by StarSpangledBucky



Series: Winterbones/Rumbuck [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Architect Bucky, Bookstores, Bucky Doubts A Lot, Doubt, Flashbacks, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, I Got So Carried Away, Idiots Pined For So Long, Kissing, Love, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mutual Interest Over Books, Mutual Pining, Superhubbies On The Side, Surprise Marriage Proposal, There Are Tears Shed, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, because headcanons, good guy Rumlow, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-17
Updated: 2016-01-17
Packaged: 2018-05-14 11:59:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5743036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/StarSpangledBucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their journey started in a bookstore nine years ago. But Bucky knows something is missing. He takes matters into his own hands, the results becoming more than he intended to receive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nine Years, Waiting Just For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kalika_999](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalika_999/gifts).



> For my dear Winterbones friend, Candace (kalika_999). She wrote me a Winterbones during the holiday season called Hot Chocolate, and it was so adorable. So I went ahead and wrote this to tie in with more of my goodguy!Rumlow headcanon fics. 
> 
> I only wanted to write something small and sweet, but spiralled out of control as per usual. 
> 
> Enjoy!

" _How long have we been friends?"_

Brock glanced over the top of the book he was reading, one from a series by Jeffrey Archer, his black framed glasses sliding an inch down the bridge of his nose. With a frown he pushed them back up and tilted his head back, placing the book down against his knee while still keeping his thumb between the pages so he didn't lose his spot. Bucky was standing in the kitchen of their shared apartment, or more so near the small open window to their kitchen where drinks could be passed through, pouring whiskey into two glasses. He stopped midway, feeling Brock's dark, intense eyes on him with a curious stare because that's the way he'd always looked at people. 

"That's a random question kiddo," he replied, propping his head up as he rested his elbow on the back of the sofa. 

Bucky ducked his head, Brock had been calling him _'kiddo'_ since they'd met, and he found it... _endearing,_  in a way. He picked up the glasses of whiskey and walked back to his spot on the sofa, putting the glasses down on the coffee table. The brunette dropped down beside Brock, nervously chewing on his lip, his hands resting in his lap as he tugged the sleeves of his sweater down over his hands. Brock frowned again, perplexed by Bucky's strange behaviour before grabbing a bookmark and placing it into his book which ended up on the armrest of the sofa. His attention fell back on the younger man across from him, the sleeves of his sweater rolling up when he bent his arms. 

"Just answer the question," Bucky murmured, swallowing thickly.

"Nine years," Brock answered. 

"Nine years ago we met and we've been friends since then...but, don't you feel like there's maybe been somethin' missin' in this friendship?" Bucky asked.

"I'm not following with this at all Bucky," Brock chuckled. "What's gotten into you man?" he sighed, tilting his head to the side.

Truth be told, nine years was enough time for Bucky to slowly but surely develop different feelings towards Brock. All the years they'd helped each other through the lows and rejoiced in the highs, it was impossible for Bucky not to feel a change. It wasn't exactly his fault, Brock had to be absolutely everything on his wish list with his warm smile, bright, happy eyes, his rough yet soft voice that drove Bucky crazy, his love for books and his unique personality. How Bucky survived the past three years without uttering a word about how he felt was a mystery to the younger man. Things only gained in complication when Bucky began dreaming of Brock, good dreams, dreams that woke him up in a cold sweat or made his heart race. If Bucky could turn back time he would, but a huge part of him didn't want to. Which is why he stared at Brock like he'd hung the moon while also trying to not make it so obvious. 

"I-" Bucky paused, exhaling deeply. 

_Just say it!_  he told himself. 

"I dunno', do you ever feel like there's supposed to be something else? Like, that sometimes things change and you can't stop yourself, but you always stick with this person no matter what? You always feel like there was meant to be more than friendship with this person, somethin' stronger. And you want to do somethin' about it but you're so conflicted with your feelings you eventually give up in the end. Sometimes you wonder if it's worth being there for them anymore, that it might only get worse and you might screw things up. They always make you smile, laugh and feel really great to be around them, they make you feel wanted. It only gets worse when you start thinking about them day and night, not being able to sleep because you want to be with them and not alone in your own bed. But you keep to yourself because it's probably for the best that you don't say anythin' so you don't lose that friend," he rambled, clasping his hands together and squeezing them tight.

Brock's eyes were fixed on Bucky, the glasses since being removed while the brunette was talking. He lent forward a little, examining Bucky's body language, facial features and so on, he had been studying human body language and behaviour after all. It became a joke between the pair for Bucky to call him Sherlock and Brock to call Bucky  _his_  Watson during their daily lives. Brock rested his gaze on Bucky's eyes, watching his pupils dilate right in front of him, the blue-grey of his eyes becoming swarmed with black. Bucky's eyes looked everywhere _but_ at Brock, glancing at his lips more often than usual. The older man took Bucky's hand, feeling him tense immediately, a breathy gasp brushing past his lips. Brock turned Bucky's hand gently, pressing his index and middle fingers softly against Bucky's pulse point, feeling the elevated _'thump'_ of his heartbeat like a drum beating a gentle rhythm. 

"This person-" he started, running his hand back down to Bucky's hand and tracing his fingers over knuckles. "....how do they make you feel?" he asked, voice low and tender.

He noticed the slight widening of Bucky's eyes, jaw clenching tightly, then relaxing, his bottom lip being drawn in by his teeth. It was something Brock noticed the most in Bucky, and was probably his favourite thing about him out of anything. Bucky always had been shy, but...not _this_ shy. 

"They make me feel like I should have been with them my whole life..." Bucky said, brushing some of his long hair behind his ear. " _He,_  makes me feel important, and loved, even with the subtle ways he shows it. Even in the moments I thought he was an absolute jerk when we fought with each other, I still felt uplifted in being his friend. But...part of me wants more," he confessed, shaking his head. "It feels like we've been together all this time and it's not just two friends who met nine years ago," he added.

The brunette felt like running and hiding, but he couldn't move, even when Brock's fingers were trailing down his cheek and along the line of his jaw. Brock shifted even closer, taking Bucky's chin between his thumb and index finger, tilting the younger man's head back up. His mind raced, his heart jumped with a staccato beat, his skin felt like it was on fire, he couldn't breath. 

"Bucky," Brock spoke, leaning closer, inch by inch. 

He couldn't do it.

"No!" he blurted out, thrusting his hand out and hitting Brock on the chest.

Brock was startled, pulling back from Bucky, his hand falling back into his lap. His jaw clenched after he swallowed down the lump in his throat, lips parting even though not a sound came out. He stared at Bucky in confusion, because he'd just spilled his heart out to him, he'd been talking about them, now he was saying  _'no'._  

"I don't get it, kiddo," he uttered.

"I can't Brock. I can't. Don't just use this as an excuse to have pity on me," Bucky murmured, pushing himself off the sofa. 

"What are you talking about, I'm not trying to pity you?" he protested.

Bucky stopped short of the bookshelf, closing his eyes to refrain from letting any tears start. He didn't want to cry, it'd only make him ten times more pathetic than he was already. Brock didn't need to give him pity, he didn't _want_ pity...he didn't want to feel like a loser for being so caught up in his feelings. The brunette thought he might as well just drown them all away with a full bottle of whiskey instead of the glass on the table where the ice had melted already. 

"You don't need to do anything only because I spilled out more than I should have," the brunette muttered.

There's an irritating silence followed by the subtle groan of the sofa because it's not exactly brand new. Bucky hugs his arms around himself, for some weird reason it felt cold,  _he_  felt cold, like he'd just screwed everything up. He waited for Brock's receding footsteps, possibly the slam of his bedroom door, or even the front door and the roar of his car. But it doesn't come, but Bucky can hear Brock breathing, as well as the flames in the fire licking away at the wood and the music on at a low volume.  _How ironic that it's a song that makes Bucky feel warm inside._

"I've had feelings for you ever since we met at that book signing for Steve's new book," Brock breathed out. 

"What?" Bucky gasped, whipping around to face Brock.

He stood by the coffee table, arms lazily crossed over his chest, looking at Bucky with affection. His eyes burned into Bucky's, brightened in a way Bucky hadn't seen before, as if he was the reason for the gleam in them. Brock smiled sadly as he shrugged his shoulders languidly, averting his gaze for a moment. Then there's a sadness in his eyes that Bucky can see, he felt bad for pushing him away, because it's his fault. He should have kept his mouth shut but he knew he couldn't get out of it now. His friend, one of his best friends, read him like a book. _Which was the beauty of their friendship in the very beginning._  

"Don't you remember?" he mumbled.

"Of course I do," Bucky replied.

"Ever since we bumped into each other at that signing, looking for the autobiography that Steve wrote, I couldn't stop thinking about you. I know that you knew Steve on a personal basis, as your best friend, you were wearing a crimson red sweater and black sweatpants and looked like you'd just rolled out of bed," he chuckled, smiling brokenly. "I remember someone grabbed the last book, and Steve's publishers were being really shitty about him givin' copies out to friends. You looked pretty disappointed but I heard you mumbling to yourself sayin' you'd wait until they restocked. I felt really bad for you and-" he stopped, bringing his gaze back up to Bucky. "I went to Steve and told him to sign it for you and to leave it sitting next to him until he called you over," he said.

"That was you!" the brunette exclaimed, covering his mouth with his hands. 

Brock nodded slowly, letting out a brief sigh, arms falling to his side.

"I still got my copy, and Steve still signed it, but I left you a note too," he mused.

Bucky smiled weakly. 

"I remember," he wavered. 

_He'd woken up early that day to complete work for an architectural project, dressed in his favourite crimson red sweater and black sweatpants. Bucky was of course late to the signing which resulted in him not grabbing the last book. But Bucky had known Steve since childhood, so a signature shouldn't have been that hard to obtain. Wrong. The publishing company Steve was affiliated with were extremely strict on handing out early copies and so on. Thus, Bucky's plan of getting a copy handed to him by Steve earlier than the release date was a no go._

_"God I'm so late, hopefully there's some left,"_

_Bucky pushed the door open to the bookstore, stepping into the brightly lit space where signs were plastered with Steve's face on them. He smirked and glanced over at the table where he saw Steve signing books, his usual kind smile spread across his face. The blonde looked up for a brief moment, caught sight of Bucky and waved, to which Bucky waved back before wandering over to the bookshelves. It was when he'd turned to corner down to the fiction aisle that lead to the new releases aisle when he bumped into Brock. He did stumble back but managed to keep himself stable, grabbing onto a bookshelf and praying it didn't sway._

_"Shit, I am so sorry buddy,"_

_Brock was slightly different, appearance wise, nine years ago. He wasn't so rugged around the edges but seemed to enjoy wearing leather jackets and jeans. If anything, nine years added some age onto him, yet he aged like a fine wine kept in a well maintained cellar. Back then there was no thick framed glasses or comfortable sweaters and slacks, but those were the days where he hadn't yet correctly organised his life._

_"That's alright. I should have been watchin' where I was goin',"_

_"Brooklyn boy huh?"_

_He made Bucky blush straight away, cheeks rosy and warm but that only made Brock smile more._

_"Born and raised,"_

_"Steve Rogers doesn't happen to be a friend of yours does he?"_

_"He and I are childhood friends, best friends even,"_

_"That's great, I heard he talks a bit about you in here,"_

_The brunette shrugged._

_"I'm not sure, I was on my way to get one myself,"_

_"Oh, I won't keep you waitin' then. I better go and get back to Queens in time for my shift,"_

_"No problem. I'm sorry for bumpin' into you again,"_

_"Don't worry 'bout it, kiddo,"_

_Bucky wasn't exactly a firm believer in love or lust at first sight, yet he was certain in that moment he wasn't going to see the last of Brock Rumlow. It was mostly Brock's eyes drawing him in, they were the colour of every Prince Charming and superhero in books, or the popular high school male you have a stupid crush on. Then there was his smile, wide and friendly and his voice, somewhat rough but sounded like oozing honey. But all that time talking to Brock resulted in someone walking by them and taking the last of Steve's autobiography off the table._

_"Dammit, I'll need to wait until they restock,"_

_He was disappointed to say the least. But Bucky didn't even take two steps to venture to the science fiction section before Brock was calling out to him._

_"Hey,"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I didn't catch your name,"_

_"Uh, Bucky,"_

_"Bucky, I'm Brock. Hopefully I see you again, darlin',"_

_Maybe it was love at first sight and Bucky hadn't let it sink in._

"I went to see Steve and he handed me the book and I asked him where he got it from and he said some fella' dropped it by and asked him to sign it to me. I can't believe I didn't think it was you," Bucky sighed.

He had his back to Brock again, picking up Steve's autobiography from the shelf and opening it to the first page.

"I still kept the note," he issued, picking it up and reading over it.

_**Our journey ain't over yet - R**_

"You confused me because you put R from your surname, not B on your first name, but I guess that was your plan anyway. Then we met again at Steve's engagement party and became friends," he continued.

"If I told you how I felt I thought I might lose the great friendship we'd already started," Brock responded.

The older man approached Bucky, his hands coming up to rest on Bucky's hips, before his arms snaked around his waist. Brock dropped his forehead against the back of Bucky's head, exhaling the breath he'd been holding in. 

"I love you Bucky. I'm a stupid ass for not telling you how stupidly in love I was with you these past few years," he whispered, gently grasping the younger man's sweater. "I'm sorry it's taken me nine years to finally admit it. But if it's any consolation, it was worth the wait, kiddo," he crowed.

Bucky faltered with his words, his free hand falling against Brock's, entwining their fingers together as a tear escaped from his left eye. 

"I love you too," he choked out, letting out a shaky laugh. "We're idiots, blinded by focusing on our careers and not even thinking about what we might have. I didn't even think you were interested in me, it's why I didn't say anything until now," he scoffed.

He let go of Brock's hand and turned himself around, making eye contact with Brock, light against dark, their faces mere inches apart. Brock's thumbs massaged small circles on Bucky's lower back, arms still snug around Bucky. The brunette felt secure and safe standing there, completely stunned by how a normal night for them, turned into so much more. 

"I thought-" Brock paused, pressing his forehead against Bucky's. "...maybe we should just take this to the highest level of a relationship," he stated, gazing at Bucky with a shy smile.

Brock was  _never_  shy.

"What do you mean?" Bucky tested, raising an eyebrow.

"Turn to page thirty five in the book," he instructed.

So Bucky did, relaxing into Brock's touch while he counted the pages. 

"I was thinking we should skip the entire dating thing," he suggested, smiling when Bucky's eyes widened a fraction.

Tied securely on a piece of string that was held between the pages of the books was a simple silver ring with grooves engraved on it to give it texture. Bucky laughed wetly, fresh tears pooling in his eyes as he stared at the page. 

"And I thought maybe we should just skip to marriage instead, nine years is a long time and-" he faltered, bringing Bucky in closer to his chest.

"...why waste it," Bucky finished, peering up from the book. "Why page thirty five?" he queried.

"Because...there's a passage in there that Steve wrote when he told his story about falling in love with Tony and it said ' _As the world's expert on waiting too long, don't',_ " Brock answered. "It took him eleven years to stop himself from suffering and do something about his feelings for Tony. They're married now, they've got the kids...each other," he said.

"Are you implying you want all that...with _me?_ " the brunette asked, brushing his hand on Brock's arm.

"Yeah, I mean...kids can wait a little while, I just want you right now...just _you,_ so I can properly love everythin' about you. If you'll let me," the older man explained. 

The book fell onto the other sofa with a soft _'thud',_ Bucky's hands immediately cupping Brock's face, surging forward for a kiss. Brock's grip tightened on Bucky's sweater, one hand sliding up his back to cup the nape of his neck. Bucky grinned into the kiss, parting his lips in time with Brock's as they kissed each other like they'd wanted to for years. They drew back from time to time, only to be tempted all over again, lips moving in sync, hands finding their favourite place to hold onto. Brock ran his hands down to Bucky's hips, arms circling his waist, hands grasping tight but not too much to be uncomfortable, putting his all into their very first kiss. Now he only wished he'd done it years ago. 

_"Well it's about time!"_

Bucky yelled in surprise, jumping back from Brock's arms, turning to face the door that Steve and Tony were standing behind, waving like idiots with stupid grins on their faces. Brock laughed and hurried over to the door to let them inside, considering how cold it was outside, their cheeks flushed from the cold. The pair shrugged off their jackets as Bucky walked forward and met Steve halfway for a hug, they hadn't exactly seen each other in a month because of business trips. Tony came over soon after, Brock in tow as Steve went to hug Brock and Tony hugged Bucky.

"Good to see you again Barnes," he greeted.

"Likewise Stark, missed ya'," Bucky replied.

"Really?" Tony huffed out.

"Like a hole in the head," Bucky retorted, elbowing Tony's ribs. 

" _Ha-ha,_  you're a comedian," Tony snorted, squeezing Bucky's shoulder in return.

"Where's the kids?" Brock questioned.

"Sleepover with their grandpa Howard and grandma Maria," Steve hummed, tilting his head over at Tony. "Was his idea," he added. 

"Oh, how's Howard doing?" Brock inquired.

"Slowly recovering, but...Tony's still worried about him, y'know," the blonde sighed.

Brock smiled sympathetically.

"He must be, I mean, it was a pretty bad fall," he muttered.

"Howard is a fighter, just don't tell Tony I told you, he doesn't like talking 'bout it much,"  Steve mumbled.

"That's fine, as long as you, Tony, and the family are okay," he commented.

"Thanks Brock, listen, Tony and I are going on a trip for our wedding anniversary. Do you think you and Bucky could have Sarah and Anthony for one weekend when Howard goes for a check up? Just Saturday and Sunday, please?" Steve begged.

"Steve, you know Bucky and I would look after the kids any day, we'd love to," Brock chuckled, clapping the blonde on the shoulder.

"What do you mean you haven't given him an answer!" Tony squawked, flailing his hands in the air.

Bucky's cheeks were a light shade of pink from embarrassment, his gaze shooting over to Brock's, to which Tony followed. 

"You!" he yelled, jabbing his finger at Brock. "You haven't asked him yet!" he grumbled.

"I never got the chance to!" Brock protested, directing his stare at Steve and Tony.

"Oops," Steve snickered, shrugging his shoulders.

Steve tossed the ring at Brock and pushed Bucky forward so he was standing in front of Brock. Bucky, again, was acting shy, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater and looking at Brock with adoration, eyes still wet with tears. Tony sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head at Brock. 

"Come on big guy, do your thing," he demanded. 

Brock smirked happily and put his attention back on Bucky, kneeling down on one knee and taking Bucky's hand. 

"Bucky, I know this was all a surprise, and this might be really forward, but I do love you. And I was wondering if you would marry me?" he asked, caressing his thumb over Bucky's knuckles. 

"Hmm, m'not sure, what do ya' think Stevie?" the younger man teased.

"Just say yes so we can celebrate and crack open the scotch!" Tony complained.

"Tony!" Steve snapped, giving his husband an unamused smile.

"Sorry, carry on," Tony said.

Bucky hid his laughter behind his hand, watching Brock still look at him, waiting patiently. He had no reason to say no, and it was more than what Bucky had expected. It was a chance for him to finally dispose of all the sleepless nights and constant doubts. 

"Yes," he croaked, still choked up from tears. "I'll marry you," he confirmed. 

"I said I wouldn't cry but I have to!" Tony sobbed, covering his face with his hands as Steve laughed and wrapped his arm around his husband.

Brock's eyes filled with a few tears, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in as he slid the ring onto Bucky's finger, it was a perfect fit. He stood and embraced Bucky tightly, burying his face into the crook of the brunette's neck, blinking away droplets that hung for dear life on his lashes. 

"Love you," Bucky purred, peppering a few kisses on Brock's jaw.

"Love you too," Brock whispered, holding Bucky tighter. 

"Break out the expensive scotch it's party time!" Tony declared.

Steve sighed, letting his head fall into his hand. 

"I'll help him out, I'll give you two a moment, yeah?" he offered.

"Thanks Stevie," Bucky replied.

Once Steve was gone, Brock rested his arm lazily around Bucky's waist, kissing him on the temple while Bucky leant into the touch, head placed on Brock's chest. 

"You okay?" he questioned, rubbing his hand up and down Bucky's side. 

"I'm...happy," Bucky hummed, tilting his head up to meet Brock's eyes. "Happy now I've got you," he continued, cupping Brock's jaw in his hand. "Hubby," he taunted.

Brock snorted and smacked a kiss on Bucky's nose which made the brunette scrunch his nose up before he enticed Brock in for another kiss. This time it was a little tender, and chaste, the pair smiling against each other's mouths, unable to stop themselves. It felt natural to both of them, no doubt from the years of pining, yet now they had everything. 

"Just for the record-" Bucky started, wrapping his arm loosely around Brock's neck and nuzzling under his jaw. "...I wanna' become familiar with all of you later, in bed," he murmured, huskily, grinning wickedly against Brock's neck.

"Oh," Brock groaned throatily. "I'm down for that darlin'," he growled lowly, sending a shiver down Bucky's spine.

_They celebrated until late, lost themselves in passion until the early morning, then slept in a warm embrace. Their legs were entwined, fingers were laced together, while they completely forgot about the day ahead and only focused on each other._

**Author's Note:**

> Some gifs for you Candace because you're my fave.
> 
> 'Cause I imagine Rummy lookin' at Buck like this.  
>   
> Bucky smilin' at Brock like he hung the frickin' moon. ('Cause this is the only one that would count as Bucky because he ain't frownin' or looking like a lost puppy).  
>   
> Kinda' all know what happens 'later' -wink wink-  
>   
> Yes I'm on tumblr: [x-crossbones-x](http://x-crossbones-x.tumblr.com/)


End file.
